


A Thousand Sunsets

by orphan_account



Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Don't get lost, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Mainly Ulfric Romance, Skips around a lot..., Sorry Not Sorry, sorry - Freeform, w/ history of Vilkas and Hadvar
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-30
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 21:47:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,350
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4035712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Esmeralda Caradec is sent to Skyrim with one mission: murder Ulfric Stormcloak before the Empire gets its hands on him.</p><p>Right as her shot lines up, a damned dragon falls out of the sky. This sets off a chain of events that lead to her finding the home she never had in Skyrim.</p><p>But meeting new companions and enjoying new lovers is only the first footstone. No matter what she does, her path will inevitably lead to one man. And the thought of meeting him face-to-face, and what she has to do, puts a fear in her that the thought of facing the World-Eater couldn't hold a candle to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Thousand Sunsets

My job is simple. My target is within my sights. My bow is drawn and taut, the arrow perfectly trained on its mark. There's just one problem.

My target is Ulfric Stormcloak, and he's about to be executed.

I had such a perfect opportunity to take him out when he was on that carriage, but they were moving too quickly and he was hunched over and the road was uneven so he kept moving and I just couldn't get the perfect shot. I have to kill him on the first hit. I can't afford anything less.

He's next in line for the chopping block. The woman captain just had the first of the rebels executed, a snarky man that didn't go down without putting in his last two cents of defiance with a sarcasm that only a victim of death row could have.. and now she's feeling bloodthirsty. She wants the Jarl of Windhelm dead, and now she's not going to hesitate.

I can see her stout form from my perch atop a nearby house. I curse to myself. This is exactly what my employer _didn't_ want. Ulfric Stormcloak _cannot_ die by imperial hands. That is the last thing we need.

Ulfric approaches the block, his chin held high and his broad shoulders squared. He carries every bit of regality that you would see in a true High King. Maybe his rebellion does have some sense. But that isn't the point.

Then the shriek sounds from the heavens. It sounds like the clouds are screaming down at us, scolding us for our bloodshed. Everyone within these walls and probably farther heard it.

What the people below cannot yet see, however, is the black form that emerges from the distant mountains. It soars at extraordinary speeds and is on top of us within seconds. I make a split second decision, focus my arrow on its mark, and let it fly.

The captain drops dead, and no one notices.

I see that Ulfric has lifted his arms over his head to shield himself. Another split second aim, and his bindings are shredded by my next arrow. He looks around frantically, and I think for a flicker of a moment that he sees me, but I slip from my perch and slide down the roof of the house, then land on practiced heels upon the ground. Oh, someone is going to kill me... if that dragon doesn't first.

 _I am the worst assassin ever,_ I grumble inwardly at myself. Then I turn tail and run.

\--

Hadvar is a strange person. I saw him haul it into a keep within the village during my frantic search for a freaking exit. Everything caught fire and I couldn't just scale the walls. I followed behind him, told him I was just a hunter that was staying in the inn when the soldiers came strolling in, and we escaped through the caves below the keep together.

When we finally make it back out into the fresh air, he offers to let me travel with him to Riverwood, where his uncle will take us in for a few days. His uncle is a blacksmith named Alvor, a burly man with arms like tree trunks and eyes that could cut through an anvil. He's a rather intimidating man... and he likes me.

"Hadvar.. who is your friend here?" The blacksmith tilts his head when he sees me.

Hadvar waves a hand toward me and shrugs. "She was at Helgen. I wouldn't have escaped if not for her. But that's not important now, we need to get inside."

Alvor ushers us into his home and Hadvar regails him of our close escape from the depth of the Helgen Keep caverns, fighting off stray rebels and spiders and even a bear! I suppose he forgot to mention that the rebels were killed by the imperial torturer and his assistant before we got there, I killed the spiders myself when Hadvar decided he couldn't keep up, and we snuck past the bear while she was asleep.

A light smile tugs my lips as he tells his tale, and the blacksmith's wife Sigrid gives me an appraising look.

"You look like a strong woman," she muses. "And you're pretty, I'll give you that." She says nothing more, simply glancing between Hadvar and me. I lift an eyebrow, completely thrown, but I suppose she is a common woman who lives for this kind of gossip, whether it's true or not. I can just see her running off to tell the general store owner's sister all about how Hadvar brought home a dashing, beautiful woman after his daring escape from the dragon attack in Helgen. I nearly slam my forehead to the table in exasperation.

They offer me a warm bed to sleep in and some old clothes of Sigrid's to wear so I can get out of my armor. I'm wearing my own clothing under my armor, but it's a bit more regal-looking than I would prefer to keep a low profile, so I accept Sigrid's hand-me-downs graciously. When I return to the living room after changing, I stash my armor in a trunk. Hadvar lifts an eyebrow at me, then peels off his shirt and tosses it in the chest by his bed.

"I.. um.. I'm sorry, I don't think I ever asked your name," Hadvar says shyly.

I give him a sidelong look. "Esme."

"Esme..? That's a strange name," he says, then coughs a bit. "Pretty, mind you, but strange."

I shrug a bit. "Take it up with my mother, not me."

He laughs a bit. "You have a mother, eh?"

"Somewhere."

"Must be nice."

I look over at him with wide eyes. I forgot Sigrid was his aunt. "Where.. is your mother?"

His expression goes dark and he shakes his head. "Somewhere."

\--

I set out the next day for the hold capital, Whiterun. Alvor wants me to speak to the Jarl about the dragon attack so he will send reinforcements. I, however, have a slightly different priority.

The general store owner, Lucan, is offering a reward for the return of a golden claw ornament that was stolen from his store. I've heard the thieves hold up in Bleak Falls Barrow, high up on the mountain. I bought extra furs and bundled up, then started up the mountain.

I come across a tower that a small group of bandits has holed up in, but they aren't who I am looking for. They barely have any goods on them, save for a chest at the top of the tower that has some gold and a few potions. It isn't much farther that I come around the corner and Bleak Falls Barrow is within sight.

And it is crawling with guards.

I sneak up to a fallen stone structure and crouch behind it, scanning the court yard. I see an archer posted off to the left on a perch that stretches out from the main structure. One arrow to the head and she tumbles to the ground. The others must not have noticed.

I have to get closer to see where the others are situated. I'm halfway up the stairs when one of the bandits decides to stroll right across the top of them. He carries a large warhammer and is dressed in an abstract combination of iron and fur armor.

He notices me right away.

I send an arrow flying at him and miss the first time, and this only serves to anger him further. The others must hear the commotion, or perhaps they saw my arrow fly, and I hear the charge of footsteps and the clatter of armor nearing in the distance.

"Damnit," I growl and turn on my heels, racing back down the stairs. The lumbering warrior charges after me, swinging his warhammer blindly. I smirk. _This idiot has no idea what he's doing._

I notch my next arrow and wait for him to get close. Then I roll out of the way of his strike and land on one knee, and send the arrow through his skull. He groans and tumbles over like a giant, his warhammer crashing into the snow. I turn and assess the other targets.

There are three of them, I think. A bowman and two swordsmen. I can take them easily, if I can find some cover. I look around quickly, taking in my options. If I retreat back around the curve of the mountain path, I can cut them off so they can only come in one by one. The two swordsmen would come in first, obviously, and I'm sure the bowman would flee back to the barrow.

 _Screw it,_ I snarl at myself. I run back toward the fallen structure I hid behind earlier and shrink behind it. _This is a long shot, but it just might work._

I line up three arrows and draw the string, then take a deep breath and close my eyes a moment.

Then I jump to my feet, take a quick aim, and let them fly. Two arrows find their way to the bowman, flinging him back as they hit his head and center stomach, and the last takes out one of the swordsmen. Better than I thought. A quick redraw and the last one is down.

-

The stone that I picked off the Draugr Scourge in the Bleak Falls Sanctum is more trouble than it's worth. It has to have some purpose, or if nothing else, some value. It's too odd not to.

The look on Lucan's face when I show up in his store with the claw ornament is more than satisfying. It seems as if he's about to leap over the counter and hug me. He pays me handsomely and I head back over to Alvor's to rest up for a few hours before heading to Whiterun. Hadvar asks how the trip to the Barrow went and I tell him about the stone.

"I bet Farengar will know what to do with it. He's Balgruuf's court wizard," Hadvar says, examining the stone.

"I'll inquire while I'm there. Thank you."

"Any time."

Our eyes meet a moment and I almost twitch. I know what he wants. I just hate to be a heartbreaker.

**\- [ FOUR DAYS LATER ] -**

His lips are hot and needy. I absently wonder if he's ever kissed a girl before.

"Hadvar," I breathe, "slow down."

"You just taste so good," he groans, burying his face in the crook of my neck.

I let out a moan and pull him flush against me. Lydia is away, probably shopping for more food. I told her to give us some privacy. She never knows quite what to do with her own time.

Breezehome is a warm and comfortable place. I've made a good friend of Adrianne, the blacksmith next door. She takes comfort in pouring her heart out with all the complaints about her pompous father. I can't really say much. He did have my house furnished.

Hadvar slips his hands beneath the cotton pants on my backside and squeezes. I gasp and rise to my toes in reaction, caught off guard. My thoughts are escaping me. We haven't even made it to my bedroom yet. He crushes me against the wall opposite the doors to my room, capturing my lips and using his hands on my ass to hold my pelvis against his stiff erection.

"Come on, just a little farther," I urge, pushing him back. His bare chest is harder than I thought.

Hadvar grins and drags me into the bedroom, pushing the doors open and tossing me on the bed. He's on top of me in an instant, tugging at my tunic.

"Impatient much?" I tease, pulling my tunic up and over my head, leaving me in my breast wrap. The pants come next, then my smalls, then my breast wraps.

The second he achieves bare breasts, his whole face goes slack. I think this really is his first time. I helpfully curl my hand around the back of his neck and pull his face toward my chest. He seems to get the hint and takes a nipple into his mouth, sucking on it uncertainly. It's a little awkward, but I let out an encouraging moan. He takes that as incentive and plunges on, getting better at it with practice. It isn't long until I'm moaning involuntarily, my nails scraping down his back.

I wrap my legs around his middle and pull him against me. I can feel his erection and get a fair judgment on his size. Seems impressive so far. I reach down to unfasten the ties of his pants and satisfactorily find that he isn't wearing any smalls. This is where the tricky part comes in.

Obviously, he knows where the pointy end of the sword goes. He positions it almost right. I helpfully place him at the entrance, seeing as he didn't realize it wouldn't do it on its own, and he eases forward gingerly.

Finding that this isn't my first penetration, he thrusts into me down to the hilt and holds there for a moment, drinking in the feeling. This really is his first time. He eases out, then shoves back in, and picks up the pace and rhythm. His over-eagerness is surprisingly a major turn-on.

Not enough, though. I reach a hand between us to rub a finger over my clitoris. The sensation makes my body jerk. I match his rhythm and it isn't long before we both begin to tremble and our peaks near. He lets go before I do, not as quickly as I was expecting, and I go with him soon after. He shudders and pours into me, and the filling feeling sends me over, clenching around him. I almost expect my orgasm to send him into a second one, seeing as he's never felt a woman cum around him before, but he holds fast.

He pulls out gently and collapses beside me. I guess another round is out of the question. I sigh a bit wistfully. He's asleep before he hits the pillow.


End file.
